


To Kill A God (Femslash February)

by Seeker38



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeker38/pseuds/Seeker38
Summary: At the behest of the Emperor, Morag sets out to kill the Fox God of Jukai. To accomplish the task she seeks the aid of the mysterious Lady of the Forge. Together they set out into Jukai, the Sea of Trees, where the Fox God awaits.Wildflowers/Ghibli AU
Relationships: Kagutsuchi | Brighid/Meleph | Mòrag Ladair
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: Xenoblade Femslash Week 2021





	To Kill A God (Femslash February)

To satiate the demands of the Emperor, Morag would have to kill a god. Dwelling deep within Jukai, the Sea of Trees, lived a Fox God whose pelt was said to be the finest and softest in all the land. A pelt that, if prepared correctly, would make a fine robe for the Emperor that was as strong as armor. Reportedly the Fox God was resistant to even musket fire. As such, Morag had set out to visit the Lady of the Forge.

The Lady of the Forge kept her dwelling in a remote area on the outskirts of Jukai, outside of the shadow of Fujiyama. Morag left her soldiers behind for the final leg, having heard that the Lady of the Forge disliked visitors. Best not to tempt fate when approaching a woman said to be a descendant of the great god Kagatsuchi. Morag didn’t hold to such a belief, but simpletons often had to imply deific purpose or descent to any woman of great skill.

She broke through the thicket of trees and into a clearing, at the center of which was a large hut. Next to it was a surprisingly modern forge from which Morag heard the ring of hammer on anvil. Smoke puffed up from within the structure.

It was only years of practical training that let Morag notice the tripwire stretching between two trees. Carefully she stepped over it and, considering the circumstance, removed the katana from her side and held it far out and away from her body. Loudly she proclaimed, “I come seeking the Lady of the Forge on behalf of the Imperial Court! Please, I mean no harm and wish only to gain your aid!”

The ringing of the hammer ceased. Morag stood as still as she could, awaiting the appearance of the famed Lady. Tales spread that the Lady was prone to testing out her creations on those who offended her. Seconds passed and her muscles grew tenser and tenser with each fleeting moment. Until, at last, the Lady appeared.

Morag had expected someone impressive, but what she saw was more than she could have imagined. The Lady was shockingly tall for a woman, with long hair tied up into a simple bun. She wore simple peasant clothes that barely did a thing to detract from the woman’s stunning beauty. Lovely and vivacious even with soot on her face. Perhaps especially. It seemed like makeup to her. The Lady had eyes kept so narrowed that Morag was uncertain if they were even open. Slung across her shoulder was a musket of a design Morag didn’t recognize. Very likely a custom piece.

At last the Lady spoke, her voice strong, fierce, but with a lilting tone that Morag found intoxicating. An exotic accent, perhaps from some far-flung corner of Nippon. “I don’t sell my pieces to the military or the wealthy looking for a display piece if that’s what you seek. Even the Emperor himself cannot lay claim to my work unless he plans to personally use it to slay man or beast. Do you understand?”

Morag slowly inclined her head. “Perfectly Lady of the Forge. In fact, while my mission is on behalf of the Imperial Court, coming here was my own choice. I seek a specially crafted weapon. Something I believe only you can manage. For a unique hunt.”

The Lady lowered her musket and let its stock rest on the ground, her hand gently keeping it standing with a finger on the barrel. “What prey is so unique that you specifically sought me out? Are the arms supplied by the Court insufficient in some manner?”

“My aim is a weapon strong enough to slay a god. The Fox God that lurks within Jukai, acting as shepherd and guardian for the yurei who dwell in the forest.” Morag didn’t know if there was truth to tales that the Fox God was guardian of the ghosts of the dead, but she had seen things nearly as strange in past years.

“Hoho...so you wish to disturb the forest by felling a god? The Fox God is strong, even by the measure of the gods of the forest. The gods of Jukai are dangerous for the sheltered scions of the Imperial Court. Too dangerous. I won’t make such a weapon.” The Lady turned on her heel and began to march back into her home.

“Wait!” Morag reached a hand out. “Please, give me this opportunity! Though I may be a woman, I am strong! That is why I was chosen for this task. Surely you, as a woman in a man’s role, must understand the balancing act I must walk.” 

It felt pathetic to be so blunt, but Morag knew she couldn’t hold anything back. If she was to slay a god she would need the Lady’s help. No, more than that. A part of her had sought this woman out because she believed that if anyone could understand the tribulations she faced daily it would be the Lady of the Forge. 

The Lady came to a stop and stood for several painfully long moments, staring in the opposite direction from Morag. Finally she spoke. “Do I seem a spirit to you?”

“A...spirit?”

“Yes. Do you believe me to be a woman or a spirit? I know what they call me. The Lady of the Forge. As if I were a spirit. Some lesser god touched by fire. Is that why you seek my help? Or do you believe that a mortal woman can create the weapon that you need?” With her back to Morag it was impossible to guess at her expression. There was something strange and wistful about her tone.

“Having seen you up close I can understand why someone might mistake your beauty for that of a spirit or a god. However, I came to you because only a mortal who is a master of her craft can create the weapon I seek. No, it is only appropriate that if a god be slain it be by mortal means. That is my belief.” Truthfully there had been moments, as the light played across the Lady’s hair, that it had seemed aflame. In those brief seconds even Morag had thought she was gazing upon a god of fire.

The Lady swung her musket back up onto her shoulder and began to walk away again. “If you stay in that exact spot until I finish my task, whether it take a day or a week, then when I once again leave these doors I will bring you a weapon that can kill the fox god. If you stray then that weapon will slay you.”

“I understand.”

Then, without another word, the Lady of the Forge went back into her domain and shut the door behind her. Soon the fire was stoked again and the hammer rang out clear and true. So Morag steeled herself to wait.

By the end of that first day Morag’s muscles ached and her stomach growled, demanding food. By the morning of the second day Morag’s body felt weightless and her limbs impossibly heavy. By the second night her hunger had gnawed a hole deep into her heart and mind, making the world swim. Time began to lose meaning, but Morag remained standing in that spot, even as fatigue and hunger ate away at her. 

Morag awakened on a straw covered pallet in the corner of a simple room. In the center of the room the Lady stirred a pot set over a flame. Morag tried to speak, but no words came out. She lacked the strength. The Lady approached with a bowl in hand and tilted Morag’s head up. “Careful now,” she said. 

A simple broth slowly seeped into Morag’s mouth over the rim of the bowl. Despite its limited flavor it was the most delicious thing Morag had ever tasted. For a brief heavenly moment she saw the Lady’s eyes, a color somewhere between the ocean and a stormy night sky. “You waited.”

She struggled to respond, but the Lady shook her head, her lips curling up into the slightest of smiles. “I’m glad. You’re the first one to wait. Now rest and grow strong again. When you are well, we will hunt the Fox God together.”

Bit by bit the Lady nursed Morag back to health. Morag knew her soldiers must have long since returned to the nearest town, or perhaps even departed for the capital, likely having presumed her dead. Yet under the Lady of the Forge’s surprisingly gentle ministrations she found it difficult to care. 

The Lady told her stories about those who had come before, seeking weapons. Nobles who wanted a beautiful sword to hang upon a wall. Wandering swordsmen desirous of perfect blades that could let them cut down their rivals. Desperate widows begging for firearms with which to punish men who had wronged them. Yet none of them had ever waited as the Lady of the Forge requested.

They would weaken and leave, or grow bored, or wander the clearing aimlessly. Some had even barged into the Lady’s home or workshop. The Lady was silent on what she had done to those foolish enough to invade her privacy. 

So Morag told the Lady about her time in the Imperial Court. Distant relative to the Emperor, only child of a family that felt they had been cheated of their place in the dynasty. Passed over for advancement in court in favor of men with lesser merit and lower birth. Mocked in court for learning the sword and gaining proficiency with firearms. Tools of men, not ladies of the court. 

After a duel with a prominent member of the Imperial Court her position had grown more unstable. Rumors were spread that she brought shame to her family by taking up the blade, that her mother had born a child with an oni, that Morag had struck a deal with a mischievous yaksha to gain unnatural strength. To quiet those rumors the Emperor had given her a task. A seemingly impossible task. Kill the Fox God of Jukai. Bring unto me its pelt. That was what had been set before her.

When Morag’s rejuvenation was complete the Lady of the Forge returned to Morag her sword, expertly sharpened, and set at her feet a pristine cloth sheet wrapped around an object nearly as thick around as Morag’s waist. “To kill a god,” the Lady said simply.

The Lady led her into Jukai, through its twists and turns, so densely packed with trees of all shapes and sizes that Morag understood how the mighty forest got its name. Animals watched them carefully, but none approached. The Lady seemed to know the forest well. Better than even Morag had expected. Yet the journey was long and they were forced to rest for the night before reaching their destination further in.

That evening the Lady sat with her back to the tree and slept, her face lovely and serene. The sounds of the forest serenaded them and Morag felt at peace in a way she had never experienced during her years in the Imperial Court. She curled up onto the mossy ground and fell asleep listening to the soft sounds of the Lady’s breathing.

At first light they resumed their journey, cutting such a strange winding path that Morag was certain she would be unable to find her way back out without the Lady’s help. Only the looming spectre of Fujiyama and the Sun above let her gauge what direction they were heading. 

Before the Lady even told her, Morag realized they were coming close to their destination. She noticed fewer and fewer animals watching them and those that did were small foxes, their intelligent eyes observing the two of them with curiosity.

Then, through a break in the trees, Morag witnessed a woman clad in pure white, purple hitodama floating around her body, walking aimlessly. Trotting at her ankles was one of those small red furred foxes Morag had seen watching them. 

To their left Morag spotted a man in white, also guided by a fox, his body illuminated by bright green hitodama. Then another yurei, and another, spread out through the trees. All of them headed in the same direction that Morag and the Lady traveled. The Lady held a finger up to her lips, urging silence.

The forest opened up into a wide clearing, thick green moss spread out over stone that was pierced only by a tiny burbling creek that ran through the center. The foxes ushered the yurei into the clearing where one by one they knelt and bowed their heads to the ground. The fox guides raised their heads and keened, a sound that seemed to reverberate through Morag’s bones. 

Morag barely contained a yelp of surprise as what she had taken for a large boulder near the far side of the clearing began to uncurl. It rose up, stretching itself and revealing an elongated muzzle and fine greyish-white fur that seemed to shine under the light of the Sun. Its amber eyes flicked casually from one yurei to the next and Morag could see the intellect. This was no mere beast. Twice as tall as a man and twice as long as a horse from tip of the nose to its rump, this was the Fox God. Of that she was sure.

The Fox God stepped forth from where it stood and its tail raised up behind it. No, tails. What seemed at first a single grey-white tail unfurled, revealing another and another and another. More tails than there were days in a week. Nine tails aimed to the sky, proud as can be. Morag felt frozen in place. Not a Fox God, like the other beast gods, which were much larger, more intelligent versions of the common animal. No, this was a Tenko. A celestial fox.

When the Tenko walked wildflowers bloomed upon the moss. A vibrant display of color that took Morag’s breath away. Blues, purples, greens, reds, yellows, and colors Morag didn’t even recognize. She, for Morag felt certain that this Tenko was female, brushed her silken fur against the yurei as she passed by.

Each yurei whom she touched regained color in their cheeks and their hitodama glowed a bright golden color. The Tenko breathed upon them and their clothes bloomed from empty white to kimono that had vibrancy to match any ensemble Morag had ever seen upon the Emperor himself. Looking upon the scene and feeling the weight of the weapon upon her back, a single-use portable cannon the Lady of the Forge had designed, Morag felt deeply ashamed.

To secure her future place in the court, Morag was supposed to kill _this_ creature? Fox God or Tenko, it mattered not. How could Morag justify killing something this glorious?

Once all of the gathered yurei were garbed in elegant finery, draped in life, wildflowers blossoming all around them, the Tenko tilted her head to the sky and crooned out a song that lightened Morag’s entire body. Next to her she could feel the Lady’s warmth, their shoulders touching. Without thinking Morag tentatively reached out, taking the Lady’s calloused hand in her own. The Lady’s fingers curled around her own and Morag felt safe and at peace.

One by one the yurei lifted their faces to the heavens and faded away, leaving not a single trace behind. When all of the yurei were gone the Tenko ended her song and turned her gaze toward where Morag and the Lady stood at the edge of the clearing. Morag felt herself drawn forward and, hand in hand with the Lady, she strode towards the Tenko.

Standing directly in front of the grey-white fox, its head nearly as large as her entire upper body, Morag found that she was unafraid. The Tenko looked her in the eye, noting the white wrapped object upon Morag’s back. Then she turned her amber gaze upon the Lady.

“So. You finally found one who was willing to wait for you.” The Tenko’s voice was ethereal, seemingly a sound that Morag heard with her ears and a voice in her head all at once. Yet its tone was playful. Familiar.

“Yes Nia, she waited for ten days and ten nights, never moving from her spot.” The Lady seemed proud, possessive even. Morag turned her head to look at the Lady and saw those beautiful eyes again, open and staring into her own. She felt warm inside.

The Tenko, Nia, tilted a large eye to look directly at Morag. “And you. Do you still wish to kill a god?”

“No.” That was the truth. Morag knew it in her soul.

“Then what do you want?” Morag felt certain that the Tenko knew the answer. They were said to be wise beyond mortal comprehension. 

“To find a place where I can be at peace. Where I can be who I am.” The Tenko nodded its head once as if accepting that answer.

“My forest welcomes any and all lost souls, living or dead. So, which are you?” Without waiting for an answer the Tenko turned and wandered back to its previous spot, leaving a trail of flowers in its wake. Then, without another word, it curled back up and seemed to become a silent boulder again.

Morag turned to look at the Lady face to face, their hands remaining linked together. A faint memory played through Morag’s mind. An agonizing pain in her back, her face against the tatami, her own blood pooling around her, a vengeful lord’s face staring down at her, dagger in hand. Those memories were swept away when the Lady squeezed her hand.

“I never did tell you, did I? Which I am. Mortal? Spirit? God? Shall I?,” asked the Lady. 

The Lady leaned forward, her sweet breath tickling Morag’s ear. She whispered her name to Morag and out of the corner of her eye Morag saw something that looked like blue flame blaze to gold. 

“What a beautiful name.”


End file.
